{"id":1318647,"date":"2020-03-09T23:56:00","date_gmt":"2020-03-10T05:56:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.postindependent.com\/chacos-column-my-bout-with-public-transportation\/"},"modified":"2020-03-10T08:07:47","modified_gmt":"2020-03-10T14:07:47","slug":"chacos-column-my-bout-with-public-transportation","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/local-news\/chacos-column-my-bout-with-public-transportation\/","title":{"rendered":"Chacos column: My bout with public transportation"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
Andrea Chacos<\/strong>
<\/em><\/figcaption><\/div>\n<\/figure>\n

One of those annoyingly rational environmentalists said I probably couldn\u2019t handle public transportation\u2019s obvious ease and practicality. With a dare dangling so fruitfully low, I figured I could easily tolerate being in an uncomfortable petri dish for two hours a day.<\/p>\n

If I can smile through having parts of my body waxed every few weeks, I could handle the bus with a full-fledged grin. Desperate to be right, I begrudgingly set my alarm earlier than normal for my inaugural commute in a diesel chariot.<\/p>\n

But first, I had to go online and navigate a spreadsheet so densely intricate my high schooler had to sort through the columns and consult with her math tutor for me. I was nervous saying goodbye to my gas-guzzling solitude where I could flip through stations like a bad deejay with ADD. Or if my stomach growled like a petulant child, I could answer her call with a sloppy burrito before work. Oh, how I\u2019d miss my eight-seater truck of blissful hedonism.<\/p>\n

Next, I had to wait in a bus line so long I thought they were handing out free doughnuts and puppies. As we began filing onto the dimly lit public limousine, I noticed everyone had a thermos in one hand and determination clutched in the other. People were silent as they fine-tuned their tracking device for the nearest available seat that would avoid the socially awkward, over-talker.<\/p>\n

Making matters worse, at 6:30 in the morning there\u2019s not a snowball\u2019s chance in hell to sit alone. I tried slinging my backpack on the seat next to me. I turned on both overhead lights to read. Unapologetically, I coughed while blowing my nose like a wounded goose signaling that a seat next to me would be enduring a ride squished alongside Satan. However, none of my tricks gave me space to spread my wings. Empty seats are as elusive as Joaquin Phoenix starring in a comedy film.<\/p>\n

Third, I had to readjust my understanding of human behavior. I foolishly went into public transport having faith that some central tenets are non-negotiable. Not so! Personal space is apparently not essential for first-world survival in America. As my seat mate\u2019s shoulder and thigh spilled into my space one afternoon, I couldn\u2019t help but succumb to my face pressed awkwardly against the cool window like a car-sick dog. I vehemently prayed the next pothole we found would this time bounce my unwelcome partner into the aisle instead of into me, again.<\/p>\n

Lastly, I had to come to terms with overtly fragrant food and their bizarrely misappropriated dining venues. Eating a garlic and onion bagel is a great idea at your Jewish grandmother\u2019s house when it\u2019s time to break the fast, and we begrudgingly overlook the aftermath when the boss has one just before a closed-door meeting. However, eating said bagel is egregious in a tin tube of 60 people going that many miles per hour down the highway.<\/p>\n

The only thing more mind-numbing is observing the egg-salad sandwich snack where there\u2019s guaranteed to be an unaccounted-for stray bit. The bus is a cornucopia for the senses, particularly the olfactory one. So, find another place to eat your Chinese takeout with a side of fresh, circulated air and save the afternoon bus ride for your discreet drink instead, as one does.<\/p>\n

My Rousing Comeback<\/p>\n

A few weeks into the contest-with-myself, I turned a corner. I sat down after a long day of work, turned to the gentleman next to me and said, \u201cI\u2019m a bit tired and will probably fall asleep with that warm, afternoon sun shining through the windows. If I drool on you, it\u2019s nothing personal, dude.\u201d I tried not to sound like the middle-aged mom that I was, but instead a rad-shredder coming home from a day hucking my meat off some gnarly jumps in the park.<\/p>\n

Soon after that, I finished my first book in well over a year. It was the old-fashioned kind with words on paper that smelled faintly of a librarian\u2019s perfume. Then I finished another. And when I was done with my third book in three weeks, I took a break and listened to an audiobook. I dabbled with a couple of podcasts one week and zoned out to most of Pink Floyd\u2019s albums another.<\/p>\n

It\u2019s taken me all winter season to learn the social mores of public transportation. They\u2019ve been harder to master than knowing when it\u2019s OK to strike up a conversation with a stranger, but there\u2019s beauty in the silent camaraderie and the feeling you\u2019re doing a small part for the planet.<\/p>\n

The cool C-note I save weekly on fuel isn\u2019t too shabby either.<\/p>\n

Andrea Chacos lives in Carbondale, balancing work and happily raising three children with her husband. She strives to dodge curveballs life likes to throw with a bit of passion, humor and some flair.<\/p>\n

via:: Post Independent<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Andrea Chacos One of those annoyingly rational environmentalists said I probably couldn\u2019t handle public transportation\u2019s obvious ease and practicality. With a dare dangling so fruitfully low, I figured I could easily tolerate being in an uncomfortable petri dish for two hours a day. If I can smile through having parts of my body waxed every […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[160],"tags":[],"class_list":{"0":"post-1318647","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-local-news"},"acf":[],"publishpress_future_action":{"enabled":false,"date":"2026-07-07 14:51:43","action":"change-status","newStatus":"draft","terms":[],"taxonomy":"category","extraData":[]},"publishpress_future_workflow_manual_trigger":{"enabledWorkflows":[]},"distributor_meta":false,"distributor_terms":false,"distributor_media":false,"distributor_original_site_name":"KSKE Ski Country","distributor_original_site_url":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske","push-errors":false,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1318647","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1318647"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1318647\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1318648,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1318647\/revisions\/1318648"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1318647"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1318647"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/alwaysmountaintime.com\/kske\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1318647"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}